


Schrödinger

by jollllly



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Affairs, As someone who doesn't drink coffee I had to look up so much, Coffee, Diners, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, i did so much research while writing this, still trying to figure out how to write Charlotte but i don't hate this so, we hate Sam here, with only a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21787699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jollllly/pseuds/jollllly
Summary: Ted takes Charlotte to a local diner to help distract her from thinking about Saminspired by a tumblr post by lesbiandomesticity:"you’re sitting across from me in a shitty diner in anywhere, america, and i watch you pour too much creamer in your coffee and i think “i love you.” you look up, catching me staring, and for a moment i think i’m brave enough to say it, but i take too long and the moment passes. i take the balled up straw wraper and flick it at you, pretending that was my plan all along. you laugh. i never want to go another day without hearing that laugh. i think i will have all the time in the world to say it."
Relationships: Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 37





	Schrödinger

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by https://lesbiandomesticity.tumblr.com/post/159500355683/youre-sitting-across-from-me-in-a-shitty-diner-in
> 
> tw for a very brief mention of dieting and wanting to lose weight

“Ugh, seriously? Why does EVERYONE suddenly want coffee at the same fucking time today?” Ted groaned as he walked into the office kitchen to see that a line had formed as a new pot of coffee was being brewed.

“I just need one more cup to get me through these reports for Mr. Davidson,” sighed Paul from the end of the line, twiddling his thumbs on his coffee mug.

Ted rolled his eyes and took a seat at the table. No way was he going to stand around in line with four other people getting coffee in front of him. He was not patient enough for this.

He brought his arm up, checking the time on his watch: 3:48. Huffing, Ted contemplated how much he truly wanted this coffee. Then again, it was an excuse to get away from his computer and the stale air in his cubicle, so he stayed.

He turned his attention back to his coworkers to hear a conversation being continued that he must have interrupted with his entrance. And, boy, was tuning back in a mistake on his part.

“But, no, man, you’re forgetting the timeframe thing. That’s like the whole point of Schrödinger’s Cat. By a specific point not only will the radioactive isotope decay, forcing the poison to kill the cat, but if you leave it in there long enough, the cat’s gonna starve! So if you’re inactive and _apolitical_ for a long period of time, you’re solidifying the fate of the cat.”

“Dude, the ‘whole point’ of Schrödinger’s Cat is that because you don’t know when exactly the decay is going to occur, there is a time when the cat is both alive and dead before you check on it. You’re looking at it the complete wrong way. It’s not talking about whether the cat is gonna survive or not. But either way, it’s not a real cat, so who cares?”

“I’m not saying the cat’s real, I’m saying this works for other situations in addition to quantum mechanics.”

“Okay, yeah, but you’re clearly misinterpreting it. Just find another analogy for whatever you’re saying at this point—”

By the time Ted got his coffee, he was going to explode. If it was possible for your eyes to pop out of your head just from rolling them, Ted would have gone blind the second those two opened their mouths. His loud sighs and glares had done nothing to dissuade them from continuing their nerdy argument. Ted now needed a break from his break.

Leaving the idiots in the kitchen, he decided to take a lap round the office, stretch out his legs, you know. He just so happened to pass by Charlotte as she was on the phone, ending a call. Ted decided to take a detour over to her desk just because it had been a while since he had last bugged her. Not because of any additional reason, no sirree.

He lingered a few feet from her station, sipping at his coffee as he waited for her to finish the call. He might be an asshole, but he wasn’t gonna interrupt a conversation with a client. And maybe he just wanted to look at her for a second. Not in a creepy way, just in a… Ted way. Okay, not like the usual Ted way that is also creepy. Just in a… way.

“Al-alright, well, I love you. And I’ll see you later tonight then, sweetheart.” Charlotte hung up the phone, letting out a deep sigh.

“Y’know, I don’t think you’re supposed to take personal calls on these phones,” Ted said as he sauntered over to her desk, startling Charlotte from her daze.

“Oh! Ted. Well, you know Sam…” She didn’t offer any further explanation. She stared off into space for a moment, looking at nothing in particular, and after a moment she seemed to shake herself out of it. “Well, I better get back to work.” She tried to busy herself, but Ted stopped her by moving even closer to her and setting his mug on her desk.

With one hand on the back of her chair, one hand on his hip, and a foot kicked over the other, he leaned down to speak closer to her ear. “So… no plans after work it sounds like?”

Charlotte glanced in Ted’s direction, “Well, Sam won’t be getting back till late this evening. Sudden extra work-load.” Something felt off, but he tried again.

“Hm. Sounds like you have a few free hours then,” Ted smirked at her, a sly smile spreading across his face.

Charlotte wasn’t meeting his eyes. His smile faltered. Normally she would continue the banter or at least push him away if she wasn’t down for it. Something was wrong.

“Charlotte?” He asked, the amount of sincerity in his voice shocking even him. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, everything’s fine, just fine.” Ted could see her fingers twitching for a cigarette and knew there was an issue she wasn’t telling him about.

“Is it Sam?” He hazarded a guess. “C’mon, you know you can’t lie to me.”

Charlotte turned her chair to properly face him, Ted no longer leaning against her. She slowly brought her face up to meet his eyes, and he could see they were red.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing, but…” she sniffled and looked away. “Oh, well, when I was on the phone with Sam, I-. Oh, this is going to sound crazy, but I—I could hear that… he wasn’t at work. And-and-and I _know_ that’s stupid, because he isn’t always at the precinct during the day; that’s part of his job, but…. And I may just be imagining things, but… I’m not certain he was on duty. A-and I’m pretty sure I heard some… strange music. That kind of modern, young pop music? Not that there’s anything _wrong_ with it, but that’s just not _Sam’s_ music. And I, well—”

“Hey, hey, hey, Charlotte?” She stopped stuttering through her explanation and returned Ted’s gaze. He looked at her for a moment. “So, you think he’s with Her again, huh?”

She looked away. With her eyes closed, she nodded minutely, trying to control her breathing.

“Well, hey. Fuck him, all right? He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on. He’s an asshole anyways. He doesn’t deserve you.” That last part slipped out, and Ted looked away. Charlotte blushed as he tried to sweep that moment under the rug. “You know what? You need a distraction. Let’s grab dinner after we’re done today.” Ted looked at Charlotte as her gaze finally met his again.

This was new. They had never really done anything… non-sexual before. Their relationship to this point had been originally one-sided advances and flirtatious behavior from Ted up until Charlotte out of the blue took him up on the offer. Since then it’s all just been sex. Sex when Charlotte was angry, sex when Charlotte was sad, sex when Charlotte was lonely, sex when Charlotte was horny, sex when Charlotte was bored. There was no romance; you could barely say any part of their relationship was even platonic. And they had _never_ risked going out in public before.

“Dinner, Ted? I’m a married woman, remember?” Charlotte reminded him. “I do not go out on dates with men that are not my husband.” Funny how that’s where she drew the line, Ted thought.

“Nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-no, see I was thinking of going to that shitty diner across from that fancy Italian place on 45. Not a date. Not a big deal,” Ted reassured her nonchalantly.

“Oh… well, I suppose that would be alright. We do have some leftovers in the fridge Sam can heat up when he gets home. But _just_ dinner—”

Ted stopped her before she could lay down any more rules, “Great! I’ll stop by when I’m done for the day.”

And with that, he was gone, grabbing his mug from her desk and throwing up a peace sign as he walked away.

_Not a date._ Ted wasn’t sure who he had directed that thought to, but it persisted in his mind as he walked away.

The rest of the work day wrapped up soon enough, and their coworkers began taking off. It was only a matter of time before Ted strolled back over to Charlotte’s desk, bag strung over his shoulder.

“Ready?” He asked, glancing at his watch, his put-on air of indifference betrayed by a small bounce in his step.

They were off a few moments later once Charlotte gathered her stuff. Ted led her to his car as Charlotte silently thanked the parking lot for being fairly empty of others. She did not want to attract attention to the fact that she was getting into a car with Ted Richards, the office flirt, who was known to have slept with at least half of the employees at CCRP beginning day one of his employment. Okay, yeah, whatever that would suggest was totally happening, but she still didn’t need it getting around the office.

The drive was uneventful. Charlotte sat stiffly in the passenger seat as Ted drove, her eyes glossed over, staring out the window, and worrying her lip between her teeth, still thinking about Sam. Ted silently acknowledged this but didn’t say anything about it. Instead he talked the entire drive, just rambling on about anything and everything apart from that, starting with those two idiots from the kitchen earlier in the day. Who gives a fuck about Schrödinger’s Cat anyways? You’re not in AP Psych anymore, you’re not tricking anyone into thinking you’re smart. They all ended up at CCRP anyhow, so no one gives a shit.

After a while his ranting died down, and they pulled into another parking lot.

“Alright, we’re here.”

Charlotte shook herself from her inattentive state and glanced up at the building they were parked in front of. ‘Annie’s Diner’, the sign read. She couldn’t recall ever eating there before, but she recognized the name. Still in a bit of a daze, she got out of the car and walked towards the entrance with Ted.

Ted opened the door, letting Charlotte go first (who says he can’t be a gentleman from time to time?), and an easy smile slid onto his face as he followed her into the diner.

He led them to a seemingly specific table inside, and the pair slid into the booth, Charlotte’s attention still clearly elsewhere. She tried to look at her menu, but all she could think about was Sam. Sam cancelling on her. Sam never being there. Sam being with that… girl. Leaving her alone. No, not alone. She’s with Ted right now. Who she has slept with. Multiple times. Who she’s cheating on Sam with. Just as Sam’s doing with Her. How can she feel hurt? What was she doing? What makes her husband’s affair worse than her’s? What kind of wife was she?

“All right,” Ted said, grabbing the menu from her hands, shaking her back to reality. “That’s enough. You’re thinking too much.” Placing the menu back behind the condiments with the others, he took Charlotte’s hands in his own. “Look, we’re here to forget about him, and you’re obviously not doing a very good job at that.”

Charlotte eyes met Ted’s, and she smiled sadly as a sort of apology.

He tapped his hands over hers a few times. “Today, we focus on having a good time, we focus on eating greasy food, and we focus on not overthinking things. All right?” Ted declared, releasing her hands in favor of returning her menu.

At that moment a lovely-looking, older woman appeared next to their booth.

“Why, hello there again, Ted. How are you doing this fine evening?” she asked, obviously familiar with the man.

“Doin’ all right, Miss Julie. About to be even better now that I’m at the best diner in the country,” he schmoozed, grinning playfully up at her.

She smacked him lightly with her notepad, “Oh, Teddy, you really are a flirt. What’re you doing talking like that in front of your friend here?” She playfully scolded him and turned her attention to Charlotte, “How you doing, sweetie? My name’s Julie, and I’ll be serving you today.” She offered a sweet smile, and Charlotte couldn’t help but smile back, no matter how absent her mind was. That kind of pure joy and loveliness was powerful. Charlotte yearned for the time in her life when she was that much of a source of joy.

Alongside some playful banter with Ted, Julie took their drink orders (Charlotte asked for just water at first, but after a raised eyebrow from Ted the orders became one strawberry milkshake for her and one chocolate milkshake, no whipped cream for him) and left the two alone, a small, genuine smile on her face to see him with someone.

Lord knows Ted needed company, and so did the staff at Annie’s. He was a regular and would come into the diner after work twice a week give or take for about a year or so. He quickly charmed his way to the hearts of the entire staff, but behind his flirtatious and cocky exterior they could see how lonely he was. Going every week after work? Must not have anyone to go home to. The staff easily warmed up to him and enjoyed lollygagging by his booth for some fun banter, and they savored the rare true smiles he afforded them (as opposed to the smirk normally plastered across his face during the work day). He seemed to enjoy it as well; they made his solitary dinners more enjoyable, and at Annie’s he found a sense of family.

As Miss Julie retreated, Charlotte had a playful smile on her face at Ted’s slightly-reddened cheeks.

“I thought you called this a ‘shitty’ diner,” Charlotte laughed, “Seems like you enjoy it more than you’re letting on.”

Ted tried to wave her off. “Looks shitty. Heart, and _food_ , of gold, though.” He buried his face in his menu, as if he didn’t have it memorized by that point.

Charlotte giggled some more as she copied him. The two studied their menus in silence, comfortable in the mood that had settled between them.

Moments later, Julie came back with their shakes in hand. “Alright, well I know Ted’s ready, but how about you, ma’am? Any questions for me or are you good to order?”

Truth be told, Charlotte was torn over what to get. She’d been trying to eat better lately, hoping that by some chance, if she lost a bit of weight, it would help her husband care about her again, so initially she had been looking at the salad options. But Ted did say today was about eating greasy food, and she had to be honest, the burgers on the menu looked absolutely delightful. After a glance at her dinner partner she made her decision. Burger it is!

Julie correctly guessed what Ted was getting on her first try (“Honey Barbecue Chicken Wings and a side of tater tots?” “You got it, honey.”) and left to send their orders to the kitchen. Once again the pair sat in silence as Ted unwrapped his straw and swirled it around his milkshake. After a moment, Charlotte spoke up.

“Ted?”

“Hm?” he grunted in response, still playing with his straw.

“Why’d you bring me here?”

This stopped him. Sensing where she was leading the conversation, Ted built up a wall. He scoffed, “Um, for food? Duh.”

Charlotte shook her head and mimicked his earlier move by holding his hand that had been laying on top of the table. His eyes were immediately drawn to where she touched him tenderly. “This place is clearly special to you. Why me? Why am I the one you’re sharing this with?”

Ted stared at their hands a moment longer before taking a deep breath. He glanced up and looked into Charlotte’s eyes, imploring and curious. He squeezed her hand before letting go and moving both of his hands under the table, out of her reach.

“I’m an asshole. I know that, you know that, everyone knows that. I can’t say I even have work friends unless Paul counts, and even then…” he trailed off, catching himself, and getting back on track. “But, yeah. I guess it’s nice to have a place where I can just kinda live. A sorta… home? That sounds stupid. Somewhere I feel appreciated, I don’t know. And I guess I feel safe sharing this place with you. And I wanted you to see it because… I want you to have a place like this too.”

He kept his gaze purposefully away from Charlotte through his explanation, only locking eyes again when he finished, hesitant to see her reaction. He could never tell when he was crossing a line. Where their relationship stopped and became far too close for Charlotte’s comfort. When it felt real, like something she should get from Sam.

But to his relief she was smiling at him, eyes glossy with tears to see another side of him that he didn’t show much.

“That and the fact that I totally owe Annie’s a gold-star recommendation and a new customer,” Ted continued playfully. “It’s the least I could do for them putting up with me all the time. I bug these people with my presence far too often and my patronage can only get them so far.”

“Now, Ted, I’d hardly say calling this a ‘shitty diner’ is a ‘gold-star recommendation’,” Charlotte teased.

“Hey,” Ted quirked his head to the side and winked, smirking at her from across the booth, “still got you here, didn’t I?”

With the playful mood set, dinner continued easily, both parties much more present than they had been previously. Their food came, they ate, and the pair realized how easy it was for the two of them. Their previously-only-sexual and never-before-platonic relationship was working well in this new setting. They could just live and eat greasy food and be really messy and gross and it was fine, preferred even.

As their meal came to a close, Julie brought over coffee for the pair.

They had had a good time. Ted was beginning to think his earlier statement of not having any work friends may be marked untrue after this evening. He glanced over at Charlotte, busy fixing her coffee to her taste. He watched, and an amused grin slid over his face as she poured an obscene amount of sugar into her mug. God, she’s adorable, Ted thought.

Charlotte felt his attention and glanced up, cheeks reddening, embarrassed by her unhealthy coffee preference (although Ted was one to talk if you asked her).

Their eyes met, and Ted was struck speechless. A shy laugh graced Charlotte’s lips as they looked at each other, and Ted nearly swooned.

If they had been in any other situation he would have reacted differently. If they had been in private, Ted would have kissed her then and there, able to cover up his feelings with his libido. If she had not been married, he would have been professing his love on bended knee for the entire world to hear, because, God, she was beautiful and sweet and charming and witty, and fucking _Sam_ didn’t deserve her. He would say those three words, and she would say them back, and their love would be so great even his cynicism couldn’t deny it.

But that was not the case. Even if he did bite the bullet and tell her his feelings, there was no way she would respond likewise. She was married. No matter how she felt. No matter how shitty Sam was to her. No matter how much he wanted to hear it. No matter how much she wanted to say it. She wouldn’t. She’d never leave him.

Instead he caught sight of his balled-up straw wrapper centimeters from his hand and flicked it at her. It bounced off her sweater and into the abyss under the table.

“Wha? Ted!” Charlotte gasped, putting aside the sugar in favor of the wrapper next to her mug.

She only took a second to crumple it up before throwing it at him, which resulted in the wrapper barely flying, missing Ted completely, and falling onto the table in front of him.

Ted laughed at her failed attempt at retaliation. The pair smiled at each other, and the playful dynamic returned.

Ted decided he could live. He didn’t need to hear her confess her love to him. He didn’t need reality to slap him in the face. He could live in blissful ignorance about their relationship. They didn’t need a label. They didn’t need to communicate their feelings. Ted wasn’t sure he would be able to handle that. So he decided to keep it simple. He could believe whatever he wanted about their relationship for as long as he wanted, and he’d be fine as long as he didn’t ask for clarification. He didn’t want to know the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed it!  
> find me on tumblr @ billtedrights


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